We left for India today. The morning was full of packing and last-minute errands: searching for hospitality gifts for Nusha's family, buying envelopes to mail important letters before leaving, etc. The airport itself was fine—we had ticket troubles at the self check-in, so we went to the counter to talk to a very friendly guy. Checked in, bought chocolates and caramels because we hadn't found any gifts earlier, got in line (waited a long time) at security, and then had to switch gates. Once inside, we waited and watched people play video games at the terminal.
The flight itself was decent, a quick hop to Heathrow (a nice man switched seats so we could sit together) with a long drive between terminals, a short wait, shopping, and then eight to nine hours on a fairly comfortable British Airways plane chatting with neighbors, sleeping, and watching movies. I chose Kung Fu Panda (which was a well-made mediocrity), and afterward listened to a BBC radio comedy that produced the following stroke of improv genius:
ANNOUNCER: Your turn, [Panelist X]. Can you fill in this log line from Brokeback Mountain: "Love is..."?
PANELIST: ...a pair of chaps.
Redeye flights are much better on a comfy plane, and BA makes 'em good. Meals, too. Though I hear Virgin Airlines is even better.
We arrived on Wednesday around 11:30 local time (GMT+4.5 in August) and had our bags by noon. Nusha and her mother and driver met us and took us through Bombay's humble-jumble array of shanty slums and grime-streaked high-rise apartments. We spent lunch at their apartment building, a homemade meal of keema (spiced ground meat) and rice with veggies and spices, plus a sort of yoghurt and cucumber side dish. We also met other parts of Nusha's family—her grandparents, her sister Shanaz, and Shanaz's son (Mehdi, 8 or 9) and daughter (Sophia, 4 or 5, and a lot of trouble).
Then it was time to hang out while Nusha, the bride-to-be, went to a make-up appointment. Afterward, we all went to a hospital across town to visit the day-old twin cousins born to another of Nusha's relatives. On the way back, we stopped several times, including at a roadside stand selling freshly roasted corn on the cob smeared with lime juice, salt, and red chili powder. Delicious! Then it was home to dine on leftovers and some fried discs of dough whose name I've forgotten.
I played with Sophia, who is altogether too cute and very mischievous. We chatted with Nusha's family and finally met her aunt Sheriz, in whose flat we were staying. End of day: we slept soundly our first night in humid, hot Bombay.
